When Nick Met Macy
by Eryn Goldbergg
Summary: It all started with a line at Starbucks, a cheesy diguise, and a tired journalist. When Nick Met Macy. One shot.JONAS.


Macy was unfortunately at the mercy of the annoyingly slow Starbucks barista. Despite the fact that the café had tried to speed things up by making two lines, it was like traffic in New York. Slow and annoyingly tightly packed.

Macy was practically being groped by the terrible smelling man behind her. Every time she looked back to glare at him, she was welcomed by the "oh-so-innocent" excuse, "Sorry. My hands slipped." But she wasn't in the mood to respond.

Normally, Macy would have simply stormed out of the restaurant, but right now, she needed coffee. She had been up all night watching Lifetime movies and proofreading a bunch of articles. Turns out that journalism _wasn't _the easiest job in the book.

Macy would bet her entire shoe collection(and that was a lot) that if she was a celebrity or someone else rich, she wouldn't be standing there, waiting like everyone else.

Which is why, when she saw hot young celeb such as Nick Lucas of JONAS waiting in the line right across from her, standing and waiting _like everyone else_, she was surprised.

But it's not like anyone would be able to recognize him with the cheesy disguise he was wearing.

As soon as Macy saw the crazy disguise, she nearly laughed out loud.

The look was thoroughly ridiculous. He hadn't changed much except for a baseball cap over his curly hair, a pair of sunglasses, and giant bushy eyebrows. Macy could barely recognize him.

_As if._

Almost as if Nick had heard her brain suppressing the chuckle, he turned to face her directly. His fake eyebrows furrowed slightly as he studied her face. Then, without saying anything, he turned back in line.

Macy watched him twist his lips slightly in contemplation. Suddenly, he turned back towards her and opened his mouth. Then he closed it. And opened it again. Macy decided to help him out.

"Yes…?" Macy raised her eyebrows and Nick laughed at his own stupidity.

"I—I'm sorry, have I seen you anywhere?"

_I wish. _"No, I don't think you have." Macy's voice went up an octave as she was shoved forward a little in line. She looked back at Nick and laughed in that "oh-ha-ha" way. "Well, at least we're moving."

"_You're _moving," Nick rolled his eyes at the snaking line. "I've been here for a while." His voice dropped to a whisper that sent uncomfortable chills through Macy's spine. "I can't believe no one's recognized me."

The funny thing was, even though Macy was packed in the line tighter than a sardine in a can, she felt like they were both the only ones in the room. And that was nerve-racking.

"Well, I did," Macy rolled her brown eyes. "It was kind of obvious,"

_Kind of?_

All of a sudden, the line, like, instantly cleared and Nick was suddenly at the front, where the barista was waiting to place his order.

_Talk about star power._

"Hi." The barista gave him this "I'm available and gorgeous" smile. It was obvious she recognized him. She gave him a wink. Macy rolled her eyes again.

_25 cent whore._

"Hey," Nick offered, then turned back and saw Macy. "I'm actually ordering with her,"

Macy's head snapped up and she mouthed "no" to Nick. His response was to grab her arm gently and pull her over to the counter.

"You can order first," Nick said to Macy, acting like he knew her. Like they were _dating. _But this was probably his plan. Maybe to stop the barista from batting her eyelashes like she was trying to give everyone in the restaurant breeze.

And then he kissed her on the cheek.

Casually.

Couples do it all the time.

_Couples _do it all the time.

Macy's cheek tingled.

Was it an infection?

_An infection of love._

_Shut up, brain._

"Okay," Macy said in a slightly strangled voice. "I'll just have a pumpkin spice latte,"

"Same," Nick didn't miss a beat. The barista's smile had faded and was replaced with a "I want to wrap these bendy straws around your neck and pull until you turn purple" grimace.

"Great. 9.50,"

Macy reached for her wallet.

"No, I've got it," Nick's voice had an "obey" undertone to it and Macy placed the wallet back in her bag like clockwork.

_Usually you would have fought back, Macy. What's wrong with you?_

_Nothing. He was being nice._

After paying, he snaked an arm around her waist casually and pulled her slightly towards the pickup counter.

An uncomfortable silence. Macy shifted from one foot to the other. She hated silences. It happened when she was writing sometimes. There would be that moment where she was staring blankly at the computer screen, praying for some sort of entertainment.

Nick's arm dropped from her waist like limp spaghetti and rested at his side uncomfortably. After yet another awkward silence, Nick started to peel his fake eyebrows off.

"So, thanks for going along with that, by the way…" he trailed off, waiting for her name.

"Macy. Macy Misa." Macy nodded once, reassuring herself that this was her name. "Journalist for the New York Times."

He seemed impressed and Macy wanted to smack him on the face. He was rich, powerful, young, not to mention HOT. Especially since the bushy eyebrows were gone. So why would he be impressed with a journalist? "That's…impressive."

"I don't even have my own column yet," Macy said, an incredulous look painted over her face. Was he _seriously interested _in this, or was he playing along so he could get to the part where he gloated about his super stardom?

"So," Nick shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me."

Not sure what to add to Nick's comment, Macy reached for her steaming a true gentlemen, Nick shooed her hand away and took both the drinks, wincing at the heat.

"Oh, can you just get a napkin from over there?" Nick tilted his chin in the direction of the napkin dispenser.

"Sure," Macy went to retrieve the napkin.

_OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYDGOD! He kissed you on the cheek!_

_Yeah, so? We were only role-playing._

_Hmm…role playing?_

_EW…NO! Not that kind of—oh, you are disgusting._

_But still!_

_But still what? It was acting, dummy._

_Hmm…does your cheek __**tingle**__, Macy?_

_No. Why would you think that? No._

_You __**like **__him!_

_I do NOT!_

_Yeah, you do._

_Do NOT!_

_Do too._

"Do not," Macy whispered to herself as she made her way back over to Nick with a handful of napkins in her right hand.

"Thanks," Nick flashed her that smile again as he handed Macy her coffee.

"You're welcome," Macy said weakly.

"Well," Nick brushed her hand, "see you later, Macy."

He left. Macy watched after him.

_Well, go after him._

_NO!_

_Yes._

_No. I am going to sit here and drink my coffee and think about other things._

_Mm…sure._

Just to prove it to her brain, Macy snatched up her coffee and took a sip. The burning sensation on her lip calmed her down a bit. She rotated the cup several degrees to admire it's smoothness, beauty—and foreign Sharpie markings?

Instead of the usual, messily checked boxes for decaf, tea, and milk, a sentence was scrawled across the side in adorably messy boy writing. Or man writing.

_The Westpark Inn tomorrow at 5. Meet me there. –Nick._

Not sure whether to squeal or to nervous puke, Macy casually strolled out of Starbucks, her insides exploding.

Regardless of how she felt, Macy knew that she would _most definitely _meet him there.

_**_________**_

_**Yeah, guys, it's only a one shot. **_

_**But I hope you liked it!**_


End file.
